


Ziet gij mij lachen?

by Anonymous



Series: Ziet gij mij lachen [1]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Explicit Smut, Fingering, Jens POV, M/M, Sander is a dom lbr, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, safe sex, smutfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22470529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He jumps when he feels a hand at his chest, and he turns to see Robbe’s holding a fistful of his hoodie. When Jens looks up, Robbe’s staring at him while he kisses Sander. And he’s not looking away.Instead, Robbe tugs at Jens’ hoodie, pulling him closer.‘Robbe, ik--’‘You said you would,’ Robbe interrupts, his voice quiet but sure, ‘you would, if you got the chance.’He glances back at Sander, who smirks at him and nods.‘Well, you leave in a few days. So. This is your chance.’---Or, the one where Jens tells Robbe he's into him, and Robbe makes an offer Jens doesn't wanna refuse.
Relationships: Robbe IJzermans/Jens Stoffels, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: Ziet gij mij lachen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866160
Comments: 10
Kudos: 360
Collections: Anonymous, Anonymous Fics





	Ziet gij mij lachen?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skamsnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/gifts).



> Thanks to everyone for being so kind about my other Robbe/Sander fics (also Anon, also explicit lol) -- Woensdag 16:36, and Vrijdag 18:26. You make me wanna write!
> 
> This is a filthy idea I had when I was brainstorming with skamsnake, who is a brilliant writer and even better friend. (Read their fics, they're amazing).
> 
> Please read the tags, it's a threesome fic, so don't act surprised when there's a threesome. It's hot, I promise.
> 
> <3

Jens had known for a while, now. Ever since Robbe told him ‘...  _ het is geen meisje _ ’ -- and his first thought was,  _ is it me? hey, it could be me!  _ \-- he knew he had something unspoken and nebulous lurking in his feelings.

Then, again, when they saw the huge mural at Waagnatie. He noticed the conflict on Robbe’s face when Moyo was giving him grief about his secret admirer. And that unnamed annoyance in Jens’ gut resurfaced, made him jump into defence mode, and he couldn’t stop himself from snapping at Moyo to tell him to cool off. 

It was a certainty when Jens saw Robbe intertwined with Sander at the Christmas party. Not the kissing, that wasn’t the issue, but the way he looked so bright, so confident, so open. The way Sander held him. The way Robbe gazed back.

Jens knows, now. He knows the way he feels about Robbe is  _ more  _ than him being one of the  _ Brrroers _ . He knows he should’ve realised before. But he also knows it’s probably a result of being lonesome after Jana, and noticing men as much as he notices women, and wanting the comfort of something familiar. 

He’d casually come out to the Brrroers a few months prior. Once he started watching some tasteful gay porn that he found on an errant Twitter scroll (which opened up all kinds of feelings he never knew he had), it was time to admit that he liked men as much as women. There’s one porn star in particular he has latched on to completely, and it’s not unusual for  _ him  _ to slip into Jens’ fantasies most nights. 

And Jens had been most open with Robbe about it: he’d even gotten some input from Robbe about his Grindr profile and some of the guys he hooked up with those first few times. 

And now. Now Robbe has been dating Sander for quite a while and Jens’ feelings are not going away. He cares for his best friend as he always has, in much the same way, but that does not stop him wanting to know what it would feel like. What Robbe would feel like. 

Their jokingly sexual touches have always straddled the line between platonic and homoerotic. Jens knows it’s a normal thing to be curious about sexuality, or so he’s heard countless times from his mama. And the porn helps. But the grey area between friends and more-than-friends is getting larger.

‘I can’t believe Waagnatie haven’t painted over it yet,’ Robbe says, his grin stretching across his face. He gestures across the water to the mural, still blushing a little at the huge expression of Sander’s love and commitment.

They’re out skating on a cold winter morning, one of the few times this month Jens has gotten to see Robbe one-on-one, and he can’t help but smile at the way Robbe lightens up at the sight of the mural, even though Jens is still not a fan of Sander.

‘It does add some colour to the harbour,’ Jens replies, raising his eyebrows. Robbe laughs back and then says, ‘Yeah, yeah, you can stop lying now.’

‘What?’ Jens asks, stopping up short.

‘I know you don’t like him,’ Robbe says, simply. There’s no anger in his face. He’s speaking calmly, and Jens realises Robbe’s prepared for this conversation.

‘I … do like him,’ Jens lies.

Robbe narrows his eyes and tilts his head. 

‘ _ Fock. _ Okay, yeah, I know I haven’t been that warm to him.’

‘Warm?’ Robbe laughs. ‘The first time you hung out alone you had some weird dick-measuring competition over Britt. Then you got shitfaced and threatened to kneecap him if he ever hurt me again. Then you texted him the next day to apologise, only you somehow ended up telling him he was so pretentious and aloof that he should take his tripod out of his ass.’

‘I mean that last one was a little funny,’ Jens says.

The easy smile vanishes from Robbe’s face. ‘It’s funny ... but it’s only funny if I ignore the other things that bother me.’

That makes Jens’ blood run cold.

‘Bother you? What else bothers you?’ Jens asks, reaching a hand for Robbe’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, it was never my intention.’

‘It’s not that you’ve offended me. It’s more like…’

Robbe trails off, his eyes wandering to the mural again. A few moments later, he finally gets to the end of his sentence, and Jens hangs on every word.

‘It’s more like … you have this sort of macho streak around Sander, and he then gets protective of me and dismissive of you. And me? I just get caught in the crossfire. And it especially sucks when you’re gonna be gone in six months.’

Jens bites his lip. They haven’t talked about it often, the fact that he’s moving to Amsterdam. But when he got the funding to do his BA in Sound Design, he knew it was the right choice.

So it’s hard to argue with Robbe, because everything he’s said is true. And it’s not that he dislikes Sander. He just…

‘I think Sander is kind of … jealous or something, I don’t know. Like he doesn’t trust me around you.’

Robbe sits up on the wall and dangles his skateboard between his knees. Jens follows suit, and notices the ring on Robbe’s index finger - one just like Sander’s.

‘But you’re not into me,’ Robbe replies. ‘Or - are you?’ He smiles, seemingly thinking it’s a joke.

‘I mean, I’d bone you if I got the chance,’ Jens says, shrugging his shoulders. Robbe freezes, and then scoffs, and they’re back to their light-hearted back-and-forth. 

‘Thanks, man.’

‘Maybe in another universe,’ Jens adds.

‘Yeah,’ Robbe rolls his eyes, ‘very funny.’

Jens pauses, the conversation stalling like a needle scratched from a record. He can’t bottle this up any more, not when there’s so little time left. So he braces himself, and replies:

‘ _ Ziet gij mij lachen _ ?’

Robbe glances over at him, about to retort, but he sees the serious look on Jens’ face. 

‘Wait you- you really feel like that?’

‘Yeah,’ Jens replies, heart pounding in his chest. ‘I mean, it’s not like I see you any differently, really. Ever since I came out, I’ve just noticed that it was always kind of there.’

Robbe takes this in, quietly reflecting for a few minutes, his feet still dangling next to Jens’. He fiddles with the skateboard and then gazes back to the water, his eyes darting up to the mural every now and then.

‘Do … do you want more than a friendship with me?’ Robbe asks, cautiously. ‘Because I want us to be friends - always. Especially when you’re not gonna be here next year. But I… I mean, you already know what I did back in first year, and- and why.’

Robbe looks askance at him, and sends him a half-smile.

‘Yeah I know,’ Jens says, a little self-satisfied knowing that he had Robbe’s attention without even realising back then. ‘But, you won’t lose me. And no, I don’t want more than a friendship. This isn’t a conversation asking for change. Fact is: you’re hot stuff, Sander’s lucky to have you, and I’m not going to jump you. I just… I get frustrated with his suspicions because, while they’re not unfounded, they show that he thinks very little of me. And totally misjudges the situation.’

Robbe sighs out a small laugh. ‘Can’t wait to explain that one to him. “No it’s not that Jens dislikes you, he just  _ really  _ likes me.”’

Jens laughs out loud, impressed again with how Robbe has grown into himself, and slaps him on the back. As soon as he does, he wishes he hadn’t, it was far too machismo for the moment, and the way Robbe cringes at him confirms his suspicion.

‘Alright, alright, no need to be so smug,’ he says, trying to offset the temporary awkwardness, ‘Now we’ve had our heart-to-heart, can we go get a kebab? I’m starving.’

\--

It’s nearly six months later that Jens realises Robbe hasn’t forgotten their conversation by the harbour. 

Nothing had changed after it, which came as a huge relief -- but he was still surprised that  _ nothing  _ changed afterwards. It was like he’d never said anything about it.

They’re celebrating Robbe’s birthday, but it’s also a last party for Jens before he moves away. A bunch of their friends are at the waterfront across from the mural, hosting an impromptu barbecue after hours. 

They’re refusing to be emotional about Jens leaving Antwerp, but it only lasts until the third round of drinks. Soon Jens is fighting off Aaron and Moyo’s stifled declarations of love and grief, and he’s reminding them that Amsterdam is literally only one hour away by train. But even as he’s saying it, he knows their lives are going to change dramatically

Originally they’d wanted the party at the mural itself, but the company who owned the warehouse refused to let them party there. Sander had organised the whole thing (his focus being on Robbe, and less on Jens). He obsessively double-checked that everyone had brought enough condiments for the hot dogs, and beer for Robbe, and flashlights for tidying up after the sunset. In the run-up to the gathering, Jens got to see a whole new Sander, and his prominent perfectionist streak. It was a side of Sander he wasn’t accustomed to, but it showed him that Sander maybe did deserve his best friend. Even if Jens did feel like an add-on to the celebrations.

It’s well into the party now, and Jens finds it difficult to keep his eyes off Robbe and Sander casually making out by the water. Sander’s hands are big on Robbe’s neck; Robbe’s almost standing on tip-toe to reach him. And much as he hates to admit it, Jens really likes watching them. He likes the way Sander kisses Robbe, it looks  _ good _ . And he likes the way Robbe clings to Sander, like he can’t get enough. He likes how infatuated they still are, and how it shows in the way they touch. 

He knows he should look away, give them some privacy, but then Robbe pulls back, feels Jens’ gaze, and meets it with his own. Instantly, Jens smirks and raises his beer, pretending that he’s just mocking Robbe’s thirst. Robbe smiles back, then pauses. He glances at Sander, says something quietly, then looks back at Jens. Sander looks, too. 

Jens frowns a little in question, mouthing the word, ‘ _ What _ ?’

With his hands still curled in Sander’s coat, Robbe smiles and tilts his head, gesturing for Jens to join them. Downing his beer, Jens stands up from the prom wall and then dunks the empty beer can in the rubbish bag. He avoids the group of drunken friends dancing, and skirts the edges of the assembly until he reaches Robbe and Sander, half-illuminated by the flashlights.

‘ _ Alles goed _ ?’ he asks, gazing between them.

‘ _ Ja _ ,’ Robbe says, a smile on his face. ‘We were just … well…’

‘We’re gonna break in to Waagnatie so we can get to the mural,’ Sander explains, haughty look on his face for Jens as usual.

‘Ahh,’ Jens says, nodding. ‘What’s a party without some breaking and entering?’

‘We’re not gonna  _ break  _ anything,’ Robbe says, rolling his eyes. 

‘You want me to cover for you?’ Jens assumes.

‘ _ Nee _ ,’ Robbe says, glancing up at Sander, who sighs and smirks back.

A long pause falls between them, and an instinct tells Jens that he’s about to be very surprised. The longer they stand there wordlessly, the more Jens wants to shout,  _ Just say it! _

Sander looks at Robbe again, seemingly having a silent conversation, until he laughs and says, ‘Oké.’ 

Then Sander shifts his heavy gaze to Jens and says, ‘ _ Kom _ .’

\---

Turns out, it’s not difficult to get through the fence to the warehouse. Jens hadn’t thought about when Sander must have painted the mural, but of course it must have been at night. He knows this place well.

As Sander brings them to the fence -- and a section of it where the metal has been torn away to make a comfortable human-shaped hole -- Jens wonders if they’re just going to smoke some weed. But something tells him it’s not that. Something tells him it’s a  _ lot  _ more than he’d bargained for. The way Robbe’s touch lingers on his arm as they get through the fence confirms his suspicion.

The three get through no problem, and quickly run across the concrete yard, strewn with debris and marram grass growing up through the cracks. It’s a warm night, and the city lights shine on the water, as Jens runs to keep up with the two boys, laughing and hushing each other as they get closer. He feels giddy as he looks across the jetty to the park on the other side, where the silhouettes of their friends are still visible, and the music playing on their bluetooth speakers still clearly audible.

Robbe gets to the mural first, shouting in glee as he does, standing next to the enormous portrait of himself. Sander puts his flashlight on the ground, aimed at the picture to keep it illuminated. Jens can’t help but laugh at the three of them, clandestine and conspiratorial. 

‘It’s not half bad up-close,’ Jens comments, pretending to be less impressed than he is.

‘Wish I could say the same for you,’ Sander says, grimacing at him in return. Jens scoffs and lightly punches him on the arm.

Robbe sends Sander a loaded look, one that makes Sander soften, and look back to Jens. ‘You’re … like, a solid seven out of ten. Eight on a good day,’ he adds, shrugging. 

This seems to assuage Robbe, who smiles and rolls his eyes, then turns around to the mural, leaning up against it, and running his fingers along some of the bricks.

‘How long did it take you?’ Robbe asks, his voice gentle.

‘About five hours,’ Sander replies, ‘I started about midnight, and finished around dawn.’

‘ _ Fock _ , I didn’t realise…’

‘It was worth it,’ Sander says, flirting back at his boyfriend.

Robbe smiles at him, then grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a kiss. Rolling his eyes, Jens looks away, across to the party, momentarily nervous. 

He jumps when he feels a hand at his chest, and he turns to see Robbe’s holding a fistful of his hoodie. When Jens looks up, Robbe’s staring at him while he kisses Sander. And he’s not looking away. 

Instead, Robbe tugs at Jens’ hoodie, pulling him closer.

‘ _ Robbe, ik _ \--’

‘You said you would,’ Robbe interrupts, his voice quiet but sure, ‘you would, if you got the chance.’

He glances back at Sander, who smirks at him and nods.

‘Well, you leave in a few days. So. This is your chance.’

Robbe says it with such mischief and confidence, Jens does not know what to say in response. If Robbe feels a little anxious, he’s not showing it. Jens looks at Sander, who is raising an eyebrow back as if to challenge Jens to reject his boyfriend. Or challenging him to accept.

‘Take it or leave it,’ Sander adds.

Jens scoffs at him, but softens his gaze at Robbe, then decides to go with it.

He’s hooked up with guys before. But not like this. Not with his real feelings in the mix, with actual deep care.

He leans in, and kisses his best friend on the lips. His heart soars when he feels Robbe kiss him back.

He leans away, glancing down at Sander to see how he’s reacting. But Sander’s focused on Robbe, quietly running a hand up and down his back. 

‘This … this is …’ Jens says.

Sander looks at him and pulls a condom and a small bottle of lube out of his jacket pocket. He holds it up in front of Jens and says, 

‘It’s Robbe’s birthday and he gets what he wants.’

Jens swallows against the lump in his throat. 

‘But just so we’re clear,’ Sander continues, ‘Safe word is “Mercy.” I’m the only one topping him. And you’re doing anything else he asks for. That is, if you’re still in.’

Jens pauses, taking both of them in, and realises this is a one-night-only arrangement. He glances at the condom, at Robbe’s bitten lip and wide brown eyes, and at the smug look on Sander’s face, and says:

‘I’m in.’

\--

Robbe pushes Jens up against the wall and kisses him with both hands on his face; it’s unyielding and unapologetic, and Jens has to adapt to the shock of it. He’s kissing Robbe, right now. In front of Sander. And he  _ likes  _ it. The spark under his skin seems to ignite a similar heat from Robbe, who’s suddenly grasping on to Jens and letting his breath come hard and fast as he kisses, and kisses, and  _ kisses  _ him.

It’s like they flicked a switch. In seconds, Jens can sense how intense Robbe feels, and it matches, inflames, his own desire. He can’t keep his hands steady. He’s overjoyed as he thinks about the fact that this is a one-off, just a night of unconditional fun, and without any shame or judgement. So he kisses Robbe back.

Then Jens feels Sander’s weight on Robbe, curling his arms around his boyfriend, kissing the back of his neck, up behind his ear. Somehow, Sander seems like part of the night, wearing a black hoodie that blends into the sky, and his bleached hair white in the moonlight. 

Just as Jens has that thought, Sander glances right back at him over Robbe’s shoulder, pulling the neck of Robbe’s hoodie to the side, and dragging his teeth across the skin there -- staring at Jens the entire time. And all at once Jens feels just how much he wants this -- he realises he’s hard from watching Sander do that alone. 

He has a momentary impulse to grab Sander and pull him closer, too, before he remembers they don’t like each other much. But then, he imagines Sander biting him instead of Robbe -- and it drives the breath from his lungs. He understands he  _ likes  _ that Sander isn’t that fond of him. Maybe Sander will be a little rough with him, maybe he’ll play a little dirty. 

Jens is startled when he hears Robbe suddenly gasp Sander’s name, and he watches Robbe tilting his head back, his eyes shut in ecstasy while Sander quickly pulls down his jeans, just enough to expose his ass.

‘Shit,’ Jens groans, watching Sander move Robbe’s head to the side to kiss him heavily, his right hand curled possessively around Robbe’s neck, while his left hand evidently moves down between Robbe’s legs, based on how Robbe starts to moan.

‘S-sander,’ Robbe sighs, ‘I- I already-’

‘You prepared?’ Sander says, with a wide grin. ‘Hmm?’ 

He leans in and kisses behind Robbe’s ear and whispers, ‘You already fingered yourself for us?’

Jens can feel the blood rush to his head as he listens to Sander’s dirty talk, bewildered and horny as he watches Robbe whine in response. Then Robbe reaches behind his head to grab hold of Sander’s hair, and arches his back into Sander’s touch, which must be getting close now, as Robbe grinds back on to him.

‘Jens,’ Robbe moans, snapping him back to reality, ‘Jens, I’m so hard.’

The way he says it makes Jens break out in a cold sweat. Rushed, he moves his hands to Robbe’s arms, then down his chest, and lightly traces the bulge in his briefs, half-hidden under his oversized hoodie. Then he holds his breath, and covers Robbe’s erection with his hand.

Robbe sighs and pushes further into Jens’ touch. All the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

He reminds himself that he should take it slow, not overthink it, and stay present. But it’s a little overwhelming. Especially when Sander is already making Robbe writhe and grind like  _ that _ .

So Jens curls his fingers and makes sure Robbe’s attention moves to him. And it does - Robbe jolts and sighs out, ‘F-fuck,’ his moans getting longer when Jens starts to pull and push (just the way he likes it on himself).

And when Robbe bites his lip and hums out a moan, Jens pulls his briefs down entirely, relishing the way his breath catches. Without thinking, he presents his palm in front of Robbe’s face and orders, ‘Lick.’

Robbe’s eyes grow wider. Even Sander stops and peers around Robbe’s neck to watch. Opening his jaw, Robbe slowly extends his tongue and licks up the length of Jens’ palm, but further still up his middle finger, until he reaches the tip. Then he pulls it into his mouth with his teeth and Jens watches, gobsmacked, as Robbe sucks it.

Then, Robbe’s eyebrows draw together and he groans, pushing forward slightly. Jens glances at Sander, whose arm is moving in such a way as could only mean that he’s started to finger his boyfriend, and Robbe’s mouth drops open. He lets out these noises Jens has only heard men make in porn, and he’s barely able to think. Robbe lets go of Jens’ finger, pulling Jens’ whole hand down and wrapping it around his still-hard dick. 

Jens’ mind blanks. Entirely. He feels against his palm a trail of something warm and wet, and he realises a second later that it’s precome when he smells it, heavy in the air. He wonders how he ended up here, if it’s  _ real _ . He can’t stop himself dragging Robbe into a kiss, full of want and desire, his left hand tangling in Robbe’s hair, his right hand tight around where Robbe is hardest.

The water laps against the concrete pier, soothing and quiet, while the distant shouts and music on speaker where their friends are dancing barely reach them. At the mural, the three guys are wrapped up in each other, testing their limits, pushing and begging for more with short breaths and grasping hands. The moonlight on the harbour is less bright than the beams from their flashlights. And Jens wonders if the moon pulls as much on the sea as he wants to pull on Robbe and Sander. 

They undulate together, all the energy focused inwards to Robbe’s maximum fulfilment, but Jens intuits the way Sander desires to be the most adept, the  _ most _ skilled at bringing Robbe pleasure. He’s the opposite tidal force, trying to pool Robbe’s attention back, and it inflames Jens’ competitive side.

So Jens makes sure to twist his hand around the most sensitive part of Robbe’s dick, while he leans in and kisses Robbe’s neck. The moan it drags out of him is enough to tell Jens that he should continue, so he gently drags his teeth down to Robbe’s collarbone and catches it in a teasing bite. 

‘Fuck, Jens, fuck--  _ yes _ \--’

He smirks and glances up, over Robbe’s shoulder, and sees Sander glaring back. Jens raises an eyebrow and, while still jerking him off, bites Robbe again, prompting another drawn-out groan. He sees how Sander’s nostrils flare and his jaw tightens, and Jens relishes the wave of dominance that washes over him.

But then Sander parts his lips, moves his mouth next to Robbe’s ear, and whispers:

‘Are you  _ really _ fucking two guys,  _ in public _ , baby? Hmm?’

Robbe’s eyes roll back in his head and he writhes in Sander’s arms, though Jens notices too how Sander is able to thrust with his fingers like he’s pounding Robbe from his pelvis. It’s insistent, and Robbe is thrusting into Jens’ touch with it. Jens feels in his bones how much he likes Sander like this. Especially with this kind of talk.

Sander kisses Robbe’s ear and then moves around to the other one, whispering there:

‘Look at you. Pants down, ass out, between two guys desperate to fuck you. Really,  _ really _ desperate…’

He gazes down at Jens, smug superiority all over his face, and then says:

‘I think he’d like to fuck both of us given the chance, he’s so eager too, isn’t he? He’d have his tongue hanging out if he didn’t want to save face. He’d fall to his knees if we asked nicely.’

Jens stares back at him, breath driven from his lungs. Robbe whines loudly and then throws himself onto Jens, searching for the nearest mouth to kiss, his tongue heavy and warm, his breath short and stuttered every time Sander thrusts. But Jens can barely think now, too, he’s so turned on by Sander’s words. His skin feels too tight, his mouth too dry, he just  _ wants _ . In exactly the way Sander said.

But he also wants to keep this competitiveness going. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

So he moves his focus to the bulge in his own jeans, which he unzips. Quickly. He takes out his dick, and holds it alongside Robbe’s, jerking off with both hands, and Robbe sighs, ‘ _ Jens _ , oh-- fucking-- fuck-- don’t stop, don’t stop,  _ don’t stop _ \--’

Jens nips at Robbe’s chin, his lips, his neck, and Robbe keeps leaning into it, his hips constantly circling forward to keep rhythm with Jens’ hands, then backward to match Sander’s rhythm. His voice is only getting higher and louder, and Jens knows from the sound alone that he’s close. But what Jens didn’t expect was the sound of Sander’s zipper.

Both of Sander’s hands disappear behind Robbe as he puts the condom on, wipes his fingers on his own jeans, and then moulds himself to Robbe’s back, lining up behind him. He places his hands on Robbe’s sides, his mouth to Robbe’s ear, and says,

‘You want me to push inside you, baby? Can you feel it between your thighs? Feel how hard it is? I want to feel you open up for me … ’

Both Jens and Robbe sigh in response, moaning and pulling and begging for more. Jens imagines for a moment it’s Sander talking to  _ him _ , not Robbe. He doesn’t know why Sander dirty talking them in this way makes his knees weak and his mind foggy, but it does, and he cannot … get … enough.

Robbe bends a little, letting Sander get a better angle, and he moves his balled fists down to Jens’ chest, tilting his head for a kiss while Sander lines up behind him. Jens tastes the sigh from Robbe’s mouth when Sander pushes in, and he almost feels the penetration on himself. He licks and kisses back, upping the speed of his hands around their dicks, revelling in the way Robbe groans in response and starts moaning into his mouth.

Then Jens’ feels a hand grab him by the hip, and he looks up to see Sander staring at him, but not with a glare anymore. Now Sander stares with something else, focusing on Jens’ lips and then his cock and then his eyes. Jens just stares right back. He forgets about the competition for a moment, now that Sander’s gripping him and digging his fingernails in.

Robbe drops his head into Jens’ neck, succumbing entirely to the way Sander is taking him from behind, just making soft  _ unh unh unh  _ sounds into Jens’ skin. It’s when his head no longer blocks Jens and Sander that Jens realises he’s got some height on him, and he stops slouching. Robbe curls his head more into Jens’ chest, keeping their hips apart so Jens can still jerk them off. 

At Jens’ full height he’s looking down on Sander, just a little, and he can see far enough down that he watches Sander thrust in and out of Robbe. He bites his lip, unabashedly enjoying the view, and the way Robbe is weak for both of them. 

Then, Sander puts a finger under Jens’ chin and raises it, forcing him to make eye contact. Sander does not let up on Robbe, but leans in to Jens’ space, and Jens can barely breathe. He can’t believe Sander is mere millimeters away from him, his almond eyes fixed on Jens’ lips, his own lips parted and wet. 

Jens closes his eyes, and feels Sander come close, teasing him with distance, until he feels Sander’s teeth pull at his bottom lip. 

The touch could make Jens come then and there. He curls a hand around Robbe’s neck, keeping him tucked under his chin, and starts with long, slow strokes on their dicks, trying to remember to breathe.

Sander clearly wants to inflict just the slightest bit of pain. Jens doesn’t object, he lets Sander have it. And he loves feeling Sander bite at him like this. 

Jens tries to kiss him but Sander teases him again and leans away. Then, prompting Jens to lose his breath, Sander grabs him by the back of the neck, and starts fucking Robbe hard and fast.

Sander’s eyes, though -- his eyes are fixed on Jens.

‘Mercy, mercy...’ Robbe moans into Jens’ chest, and Sander stops immediately, pulling out gently as he whispers, ‘Robbe, love, are you ok?’

Nodding, Robbe stands up and turns around, leaning back against Jens, who twines his arms around Robbe’s chest. They take a small breather together, Jens dropping his face onto Robbe’s head, while Robbe leans up and kisses Sander, his fists curling in Sander’s black hoodie.

‘I’m really close,’ Robbe laughs, slightly self-conscious now they’re not in the heat of the moment. 

‘Me too,’ Jens sighs, his heart pounding against his ribs.

‘All the way or no way,’ Sander replies, out of breath and smug smile on his face. ‘What do you want, baby?’

Robbe rolls his forehead along Sander’s neck, letting out a long giddy laugh. ‘I definitely want you inside me again.’

Sander nods, running his fingers through Robbe’s hair, kissing him gently along his temple. 

‘I-I don’t know how we’re gonna- I feel like I need to be on a table or a bed or something-’

‘How about Sander and I hold you up?’ Jens offers, the words out of his mouth before he can think about them. He zips up his jeans while he talks, self-conscious about being too exposed in the cold. ‘Like, Sander still tops you but we both hold you up in our arms.’

‘Not a bad idea,’ Sander says, glancing at Jens with a smirk. ‘What do you think?’ he asks Robbe.

‘I think … yes. But- what about Jens?’

‘We can finish him off together once you’re done,’ Sander offers.

They all pause for a moment, until Sander’s face breaks out in a huge grin. Followed immediately by Robbe.

‘Well shit,’ Jens laughs.

‘Alright,’ Sander says, smiling into a kiss with Robbe. He makes a loud smacking sound as they pull apart. ‘Jens, can you grab hold of his thighs from there, and I’ll pull up from behind his knees?’

Robbe puts his arms around Sander’s shoulders as Jens starts to pick him up. It’s a wobbly start, and more than once they don’t quite get the momentum they need. But after a little while, Robbe is firm against Jens’ chest, whose arms reach around to Sander, and Robbe’s legs are supported by Sander’s arms and lower body.

‘Ok, you ready?’ Sander flirts, his voice low and his eyes on Robbe’s lips.

Robbe nods, and Sander pivots his hips to angle his dick, and push in. It drags a moan from Robbe, who drops his head back against Jens’ shoulder. 

The new position means that Jens and Sander’s faces are even closer than before, and Jens is hypnotised. He holds Sander close, feeling every thrust like it’s his, and wonders if in another universe they could both penetrate Robbe. Right now, though, he’s clearly too close to coming.

Jens’ dick is chubbed in his jeans, stimulated by the friction of Robbe’s ass rubbing up against it while Sander thrusts into him. He kisses and bites at the stretch of skin between Robbe’s neck and shoulder, and relishes the sounds Sander’s making now he’s really going for it. Sander whispers, ‘ _ That’s it, _ ’ ‘ _ You’re doing so well _ ,’ ‘ _ There’s my good boy _ ,’ and Jens closes his eyes and imagines it’s all for him.

Robbe jerks himself off, crying out into the night, so much so that Sander quickly hushes him and kisses him to keep quiet. He keeps thrusting, and Robbe whines, groaning out, ‘I’m-- I’m gonna--  _ please _ , Sander--’

Sander speeds up, guided by the angles that make Robbe most uncontrollably aroused, and Robbe reaches an arm around to grab Jens’ hair, sighing out, ‘Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ \--’

He arches his back as his thighs tense, and Jens is close to coming himself just by watching the way Sander fucks it out of Robbe. Robbe’s moaning without reserve, riding the wave of his climax, incandescent. 

Moments later, Sander grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, moaning, ‘Baby, I’m gonna come too, can I- can I come, baby, please-’

Robbe doesn’t verbalise his response, he just moves the hand in Jens’ hair to Sander’s head, and pulls him close, tucking his head into his neck. 

‘I want it, Sander,  _ give it to me. _ ’

Sander shouts, his orgasm hitting him with force as he groans into Robbe’s skin, unloading inside him, his hands grasping suddenly at Jens’ sleeves, fingernails digging in. His throat is strained, a vein heavy and purple standing out under the skin, and Jens didn’t realise until now that that was a kink of his. 

The two cool down quickly, aided by the brisk night air from the sea, and Jens gently lets go of Robbe. When Robbe’s feet hit the ground, he teeters a bit: 

‘Fuck, my legs are numb,’ he laughs, holding on to Jens for support. 

‘That’s how you know it was good,’ Jens jokes, and Robbe rolls his eyes.

Robbe and Sander both put their briefs and trousers back on, and Sander kisses Robbe, quietly checking in with him again, until Robbe turns around and looks at Jens. He glances mischievously between his boyfriend and his best friend, and then brings Sander’s right hand to Jens’, a wordless request.

Jens raises his eyebrows and looks at Robbe, who kisses Sander again, and then stands behind him, circling his arms around Sander’s waist, peeping over his shoulder. 

Jens begins to realise what Robbe’s got in mind, as he looks at Sander looking at him. And he knows he’s not going to last at all.

‘Is this ok?’ he asks Robbe, his hands hovering in the space between himself and Sander, unsure what’s allowed and what is not.

Robbe nods and then whispers in Sander’s ear, ‘Your hands…’

Instantly, Sander smiles and pushes Jens against the mural wall, leaning up to kiss him with intent, biting his bottom lip hard as he pulls away. His hands are heavy on Jens’ waist, and they make short work of his jeans zipper.

Jens likes how Sander kisses him; it’s confident, giving, entirely present. He likes how Sander tastes a little bit of rum and a little bit of leather, how different he is from Robbe. And he likes how Sander’s hands move down to caress the hardness growing in his briefs.

‘You look so good like this,’ Robbe whispers, and Jens knows he means it for both of them. Still, he forgets to respond when Sander kisses him again, his tongue licking into Jens’ mouth, his hands teasing at the hem of his briefs.

‘You want it?’ Sander asks, his voice husky from the cold and exhaustion. ‘You wanna come on my hands?’

Immediately Jens moans, his eyes rolling back in his head: Sander has pulled his dick out of his briefs, and he’s stroking it, assured and impatient. He kisses Jens again, biting his lip a third time, this time hard enough to draw blood, and Jens does not even care. He’s sighing and whining and groaning out how good it feels, how much he likes the way boys touch him. Especially these boys.

Then Sander starts to twist on the upstroke, and Jens’ back arches. ‘That-- th-that--’

‘Ah, that’s your sweet spot, hm?’ Sander says, patronising Jens just a little bit again. It’s astonishing how much that tone makes his blood pump harder in his veins; he could listen to Sander talk like this all day.

‘That’s how you want to be touched, isn’t it? Quick and dirty. I get it, it’s hot. But I bet you’d love if we took you home and fucked you properly. Hm? Lay you out on the bed and suck you off maybe?’

‘Sander,’ Robbe moans, clearly getting off on the dirty talk as much as Jens is. He can’t hear anything but the sound of Sander breathing now, he’s so focused.

‘Say yes, Jens,’ Sander whispers. And Jens groans loudly, ‘ _ Yes _ , fucking-- yes…’

Sander nods and speeds up his momentum, jerking Jens off with renewed vigour, and Jens can feel his climax being pulled up from his toes, down from the crown of his head. It’ll only take the smallest hint of--

‘Say what you want.’

‘I want you to--  _ please _ \-- I want you to f-fuck me--’

‘If you’re a good boy and you come for us, maybe we will.’

Jens grunts out, ‘Faster, Sander,  _ faster _ .’ And Sander obliges. He gets both of his hands on Jens’ dick and gives it everything he’s got. Within seconds, Jens half-cries, ‘I’m gonna come, sir, I’m gonna-’

‘That’s it,’ Sander says, his smirk firmly in place, ‘Come like this. Come for us, now…’

It’s so forceful, Jens’ vision goes a little blurry and his hearing dims. The climax takes him over and he just bellows out his orgasm, his hands pulling Sander closer to him. He can’t remember the last time it was that good. It completes him for a moment, and he sighs, relaxing back into his body, still sensitive and aroused from what he’s just experienced.

He cools down, and bashfully zips his jeans back up, ignoring the unpleasant cold and sticky residue stuck to the inside of his hoodie. When the three are back to normal, Jens rubs the back of his neck nervously, and says, ‘I don’t know what to say now. I just-- that was-- that was something else.’

Robbe smiles and gives his best friend an intimate hug. As he does, he whispers into Jens’ ear, ‘I guess we’ll have to visit you in Amsterdam.’

Jens scoffs, but then glances at Sander over Robbe’s shoulder. Sander looks back as he lights a cigarette, and says, ‘Yeah. Round 2, maybe.’


End file.
